Chapter 7

After clearing the truck bay the men moved single file down the hallway, checking for locked offices and opening closed doors. They encountered no further resistance as Ryan's voice in their ears guided them past crossing hallways to an elevator bay.

"Stairwell's to the right." Ryan instructed, "remember, third floor. No one outside the door right now, but wait before you go through."

The men ran lightly up the stairs, single file, John in the lead. Dean tried to maneuver himself close to John, but in the bottleneck at the door he ended up in the middle of the pack behind Joey who had caught up with them in the truck bay. When John reached the door he raised a fist to stop the group and whispered over the headsets, "Ryan?"

"You're clear, take the first right." The answer came back immediately.

They were almost all through the door when Ryan hissed in their ears, "Wait! Wait, there's three of them coming at you from the first left.

John patted Troy on the shoulder, giving him a push forward, Troy caught Sam's eye and the two of them started down the hall before the rest of the group.

Dean had a bad moment as he watched the two men hurry down the hall. His instinct to protect Sam warring with his need to stay with his dad until he could get a hold of the bone stake. He watched wide-eyed as the two men crept down the hall, quickly turning at the first left.

Sam turned first spraying the borax liquid. Troy pushed past him, swinging his machete. There were screams and the hiss of borax burning Leviathan flesh, then thumps. After a moment it became quiet again and Sam called softly back to the rest of the group, "all clear."

They proceeded cautiously down the hall, picking up Troy and Sam as they passed the first left. When John came abreast of the right hallway, he stopped the group again with a raised fist and peered around the corner. "Ryan?"

There was a blip of static before Ryan answered, "yeah, go."

They turned the corner and walked two abreast down the hallway.

"Okay, Roman's in the conference room at the end of the hall. – head of the table away – door. There are four others. All Levi's – ight?" More static punctuated Ryan's instructions.

"Probably," Dean whispered, keying his mike. Now another worry gnawed at his mind. They were getting too far inside the building now, and he feared the signal wouldn't hold out.

"Okay. They're – sitting – the table. And...wait, there's – guy, – walked out from under the camera." Ryan was quiet for a beat. "He – under the – so he's on the – the door – go in."

"Thanks Ryan," John whispered back, motioning for the group to split up as they approached the door.

They lined single file flanking the closed door, John positioning himself closest to it. Dean pushed in right behind him, he wasn't going to let John get more than an arm's length until the deed was done. Joey's hand hovered over the door handle, he stood in front of the door but back as far as he could, ready to fling it open. John counted down with his fingers, everyone watching intently, already triggering the weed sprayers. When John closed his fist Joey ripped the door open and they started in one after another.

Dean was second in, keeping as close to John as possible, but once past the door John dropped his shoulder and barreled through the Levis as they jumped up to meet the attackers. John's momentum spun one who fell into Dean and they went to the floor. Dean landed on his side, hard, with the Leviathan, a bouncer type, sprawled heavily on top of him face up. He twisted, bringing up the hand with the sprayer up and angling it to hit the Levi full in the face. It screamed and writhed and at the same moment Dean felt someone grab his shoulders, pulling him out and up. Once he regained his feet he swung the arm with the machete and took the Levi's head. With satisfaction, Dean watched the head bounce and half roll under a chair. A hand clapped on his shoulder and he turned to see Sam.

"You good?" Sam asked as he turned and sprayed more borax across the table.

"Yeah," Dean muttered, looking for their father. John was at the head of the table facing off with a smiling Dick Roman. He couldn't hear what either of them were saying over the sizzling flesh and painful screams, but whatever it was it lasted only a moment. John raised the bone stake in his right hand and in response Roman threw his head back, his face cracking into a wide mouth with scores of sharp teeth. A blur and he had John's upper right arm between those teeth.

"Dad!" Dean screamed, trying to get to John.

Still beside him, Sam jumped onto the table and in two long strides reached them and was grabbing at Roman, trying to pull him off John. Dean struggled to push aside the bodies between him and his dad and a blink after Sam got there, he was able to reach out and grab the back of John's jacket. John dropped his machete, and twisting in Roman's grip, grabbed the bone stake from his dangling right hand and brought it up to stab viciously into Roman's side. Roman released his grip and threw his head back again, an unearthly high pitched scream gurgling in his throat.

A shockwave erupted from Roman's body, Dean felt it slam into him, quickly followed by a second stronger one. Panic rose in his chest: No! His fingers scrabble against John's leather coat, trying to get a handful and pull him away. Another shockwave and another. His gaze shot to Sam, who was dropping off the table, trying to grapple Roman by the neck and pull him away. Sam, no! And at that moment Roman exploded in a shower of black goo that coated everything in the conference room.

-wWw-

It was dark and he tasted mud in his mouth. Whatever he lay on was cold and wet, chill moisture seeping through his clothes. A deep shiver ran through him and he tried to push himself up with trembling hands but was so weak he only managed to raise himself a few inches before falling heavily back into the mud.

Becoming more aware of his surroundings, Dean heard someone moaning a few feet away. The voice was deep and harsh with pain. He recognized it as his dad's voice and tried again to rise. ...get up you sonuvabitch! He screamed at himself and somehow he found enough energy to get to his hands and knees, but had to stay there for a moment swaying and panting with sudden exhaustion.

"I'm coming dad," he tried to say but it came out as barely a whisper as he tried to get to his feet. There were slivers of moonlight coming through the trees and he could see a couple of lumps a few feet away. Trying to get to his feet seemed futile as he slipped in mud and wet rotting leaves so he followed the moans and crawled toward the prone figures.

It seemed to take forever to reach John and as he got closer he could see Sam laying a couple of feet away. He rolled their dad over and drew back a hand with dark wetness. Shit! Hot needles of adrenaline spiked painfully through his body and he sat back on his heels, panting, to take off his jacket and flannel shirt. He rolled the shirt up then wrapped it around John's upper arm and shoulder, using the sleeves to tie it tightly over the wound. John grunted in pain as he did and mercifully passed out. Dean whispered to him, "you're gonna be okay dad. Just hang in there."

Pulling his jacket back on, he turned toward Sam and half crawled, half knee shuffled to him to shake him roughly. "Sammy! Wake up!"

Sam groaned and turned onto his side, "Dean?"

"Yeah, it's me," Dean sat back on his heels, and took a couple of deep breaths.

Sam sat up and produced a small flashlight from one of his pockets, shining it around them. When it landed on John he hissed out a breath and scrambled to their dad's side.

He turned to look back at Dean, "Is he okay?"

"I-uh, I think so."

Sam placed a hand alongside John's cheek. "Dad?" Then he pulled at Dean's shirt, adjusting the way it covered John's wounds. He sat back, staring at John for a moment, then he raised the flashlight and ran the beam around them. They were in a small clearing surrounded by thick trees and underbrush. Sam turned back to Dean and whispered, "are we?"

Dean wiped the back of his hand across his mouth before answering. "Yeah. The one place we don't wanna be."

"Shit," Sam whispered.

Something cracked in the trees behind them. The brothers turned as one, Sam clicking off his light. They tried to see through the thick foliage and shrouding dark for the source of the sound.

"We gotta find some cover," Dean kept his voice so low he wasn't sure at first if Sam heard him. But after a beat Sam turned to him, the pale moonlight making his eyes shine and seem too large for his face. Sam nodded at him. So Dean whispered,"help me."

With effort Dean managed to get to his feet and grabbed John under the arms starting to lift him. Seeing what Dean was doing Sam shakily rose and picked up their father's feet. They half dragged half carried John into some brush surrounding a fir tree. The boys slid back under the overhanging branches, dragging John under the cover. They sat, hardly daring to breathe as more cracks and rustles moved closer to them.

Footsteps separated from each other and squelched through the mud to search the small clearing. Stopping in the middle of the clearing where they'd just been laying. Through the branches Dean could see a dark figure stoop and touch the depressions in the mud. Goddammit! He could hear Sam suck in air, then nothing more and he guessed his brother was also holding his breath. The dark figure bent low over the ground and the sound of rapid sniffing reached him. All of a sudden Dean became aware of the strong fear stink that permeated his skin. The figure straightened, head held high, and sniffed the night air. Suddenly there was another distant crack sharp as a gunshot that caused the figure to jump up, crouching, hands spread, one holding a long blade.

A wild ululating cry presaged the dark figures that swept from cover and converged on the lone wolf in the clearing. They made short work of him and snarling and snapping at each other they tore the body apart devouring it with relish.

Dean heard Sam's sharp intake of breath and reached out, grabbing his upper arm and pushing him back against the bole of the tree, flattening himself against it beside Sam. He put a finger to his lips, and realizing that Sam couldn't see him, he brought his hand up to rest the palm gently against his brother's mouth for a brief second. When he felt Sam nod, he removed his hand and they both tried to become one with the dark and block out the sound of the gorging monsters.

-wWw-

Sunael had been following the mortal's thread for far longer than she thought was necessary. So far all of the branches that split off seemed to be only probabilities and terminated in dead ends. She had finally come to the conclusion that she needed help. There were just so many probabilities and she was only one lowly angel. The others she knew would never trouble themselves to deal with mortals. All except one. But admitting to Castiel that she had lost the mortal in his charge made her rethink the situation. Surely her brother would be angered by her interference. She could hardly bear the thought of his displeasure and how, like the other Seraphim, he would see her as so far below him as to warrant no notice. But she could think of no other option that engendered less risk. So she steeled herself to absorb the blows and reached out to her elder brother.

She found him easily and he readily accepted her touch, greeting her and melding their quintessences. Suddenly she could feel what he felt, the flesh of a body around her, the limitations it imposed. The sensation of breeze and sun on the skin. She was confused by all of it for a moment, and Castiel pulled back, only keeping the quintessences of themselves connected so they could communicate. Sunael haltingly showed him what she'd done and what had happened. Castiel's quintessence grew hot for a moment and she faltered. But then he resonated a soothing tone and she continued, ending with her futile search.

Despite the fear that her brother would be angry with her he only resonated love and compassion. He gave her instructions that chilled her and he added warmth to his resonation. Still she quailed at the prospect of what he was instructing her to do, though ultimately she agreed.

They separated and Sunael returned to her immense form of energy and light, then to the compact being she was in Heaven. Despite her reservations she had plenty of work to do and little time in which to do it.

-wWw-

The moon set midway through the night and complete darkness enveloped everything. Night sounds grew loud, rustlings of small creatures, chirps of insects and mournful calls of night birds. Dean tried to remain alert, but sagged against the tree, his energy spent. A couple of hours earlier, Sam had curled on the ground and seemed to be dozing, and their father still hadn't awakened, though he seemed all right. But he wouldn't allow himself to sleep, so he kept watch over his father and brother as the night lightened into predawn and he could see sun breaking through the branches the concealed them.

"Sam," Dean shook his brother gently and when Sam looked up at him bleary eyed, he continued. "I'm gonna go scout, see if I can figure out where we are. You stay here and see if you can get Dad up."

"I'm awake," John answered in a hoarse voice.

"Good," Dean answered and slid out from under the tree before anyone could say anything else.

He moved quickly, distancing himself from the hideout, keeping his machete in hand. In his cursed world of everything going sideways, this was the worst. He couldn't believe he was back in God's armpit. And with his family in tow to boot. Shitshitshit. This was bad. And he didn't recognize anything around here. Not that his last stint in Purgatory had been full of signposts, but it was nothing but anonymous tangled forest and he knew it went on for literal forever.

Dean stopped for a moment, a hand squeezing his forehead. I should have taken that thing away from dad. Dammit! Why didn't they listen to me?

He rubbed his hand roughly down his face trying to brush away his anger, but only smearing blood from a cut on his forehead he didn't know he had. He took several sharp breaths making an attempt to calm himself. He had to think. Figure this out. Find the portal, and keep them all alive for who knew how long. Of course Henry had heard his Purgatory stories and surely he would make the connection when he saw them disappear. Perhaps there was some hope of help. But deep inside Dean doubted there was any other way out of there except the portal. Which he had to find. In a literal sea of things that wanted to eat them.

He shook his head unconsciously then opened his eyes and tried to find some landmarks around him. Good times. He told himself bitterly.